


The Glitch

by Pameluke



Category: Original Work
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, F/F, IN SPACE!, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates with an Artificial Intelligence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/pseuds/Pameluke
Summary: At 4 months, Janda's DNA was read, coded and tattoed. At 7 months, her tattoo broke the first MatchMaker program.





	The Glitch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



Ento and Sanit were born mere months apart, their ID tattoos read and matched in the same cycle. They were a perfect match, and as was custom, were cribbed together in the educational wards, breaths and heartbeats in sync whenever they were in the same room. Their parents got along well enough, and the two boys grew up into happy, healthy children. Ento, ever practical, showed an affinity for technical programming early on and aced all his classes. Sanit loved to laugh and play pranks and eventually found his calling in medicine. Both loved food, hated politics and preferred walks in the arboretorum over going to the movies.

They'd always known they were soulmatches, but almost everybody they knew had one, so they didn't think much of it. Ento fell in love when he was 17, when Sanit brought him delicious home-made snacks while he was cramming for an exam. Sanit realized he was in love a couple of months later, when he got sick with the Tovarean Flu and Ento broke into the quarantine to sneak him food.

They kissed two weeks later, an awkward affair at the transit hub. They got better at it in record time. As was customary for soulmatches who fell in love, they got married when they were 21.

At 24 they decided they were ready for a first child. They were soulmatches, so their DNA got approved for procreation without a problem, and the incubation went without a hitch. They visited their little girl as often as possible, read to her and sang to her. After nine months, Janda was born, the prettiest girl to ever live in the eyes of her fathers.

They were perfectly ordinary in every way. They were happy.

***

Janda's tattoo looks like everybody else's; a pattern of dots and lines, the black tattoo stretching from her throat to her breastbone.

Like everybody else, she's had it since she was a baby, the incubators scanning her DNA, taking into account her parentage and their status, and coding all of that data onto her body. 

The incubators weren't the problem, when they reran Janda's DNA, the same pattern is printed and printed again.

So the glitch must lie with the MatchMaker az3.2 algorithm.

There have been errors before ofcourse. Often a match hasn't been born yet when a baby is first run through the matches. Sometimes the match is only found after an unexpected change in circumstances, sometimes people are deemed unmatchable because of perceived faults in their DNA, and the recommendation is to not proceed with procreation. People have defied their matches, have found love and companionship outside of their matches. Life finds a way and love is no different. Humans stay human, no matter the forward momentum of technology.

But the advantages of finding matches early have been proven over and over again. Babies who are cribbed together with their matches grow up into healthier children, into healthier adults. People who have known their match since childhood have more stable and happier lives. The algorithm, while often improved upon, has been universally accepted as a benevolent ficture in human life.

So when Janda's tattoo is read for the first time, no one is willing to accept the error message. Not Ento and Sanit, not the medics responsible for birthing and childcare, not the scientists in charge of the program, not the programmers asked to revise the code.

ERROR: MATCHING CODE UNREADABLE.

It's just not possible. It must be a glitch.

Janda is too young to care, just happily sleeps in her crib, one hand fisted over her tattoo.

***

She’s run through the algorhitm each year until she’s 16, which is when Janda puts her foot down.

“I’m not doing it anymore. Last year the damn thing short-circuited! I am actually causing fires now! Do you know what that takes?”

Her dad archs his brow. “As a programmer with DalCorp, I’m acquainted with the proces, yes,” Ento says.

Janda rolls her eyes. “Then you should be worried about those poor machines!”

Sanit grabs her hand. “We just want you to be happy. Life is so much easier when you’ve found your match. And healthier. Your father and I haven't been sick since we started living together."

“Look, I know you guys have a picture perfect life, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be happy without one. I don’t need a match to be happy.”

"What about your match? How will they ever find you if your information isn't in the matching database?"

Janda snorts. She's pretty sure there's no one out there for her on Hael Station. Her parents cribbed her with every unmatched child until she was 7 and had to leave the educational wards. She never synced up with anyone. She's been called a glitch and a mistake enough times in her life that she started to believe it.

She pushes her glasses back up her nose in a nervous gesture.

"If these algorithms really find matches of our souls, then I'm sure my match will find me eventually, if it's meant to be."

Ento is still frowning but Sanit nods. “If that’s how you feel, you don’t need to go. But if you change your mind, you can still go, there wouldn't be shame in changing your mind.”

Janda hugs them both, almost toppling the drinks on the table. She’s too relieved to care about the worried glance her fathers are exchanging over her head. 

She’ll be fine on her own.

***

Janda impatiently steps through the ID scanner for the third time. She's a last-minute replacement for this assignment, so she's been running into bad clearances all day. She’s ready to get this ship out of the Station harbor and isn’t in the mood for the usual technical delays her ID-tattoo tends to cause. The whole reason she became a pilot is because she wanted to escape all of that.

Finally the lights lit up green and she’s free to enter the ship. 

“Welcome aboard, Pilot Janda Saynaevo, also called The Glitch,” a smooth, warm voice greets her. 

Janda groans. Perfect. 

“Just Janda is fine,” she snaps. “Guide to the deck, please.”

There’s an unusual pauze. Her ID must have really messed the poor AI up.

“Apologies,” they eventually say. “I merely wanted to abide by common politeness. You’re my first pilot.”

Janda immediately feels like an ass, which doesn’t improve her mood.

“It’s fine. Deck please," she says, pushing up her glasses.

The amber guidelights lit up, showing her the way through her quarters. The AI stays silent. That’s fine too. They’ll figure each other out soon enough. They’re carrying cargo for the Third District Stations, so they’ll be en route for quite a while.

She pats the paneling of the hallway while she follows the guide lights. She’s obviously new, no scratches or smears on the surface yet. She even smells new, the air not that dry, specific taste yet of air that’s been recycled too much.

The deck is equally shiny, and once she settles at her dashboard she takes a deep breath. It lights up before she can touch it to ID herself, controls at the ready.

“All crew is aboard, as is the cargo,” the voice says. “Dedocking approved for 1540 local time.”

She’s got an hour left to acquant herself with the ship then. She swivels around in her chair, looks at the small cockpit that’ll be her second home for the foreseeable future. Her own ship. She can't quite believe it.

She’s smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.

“What’s your name?”

There’s another one of those slightly too long pauzes, as if the AI is finding her footing as much as Janda is.

“Technically it would be FreightControl 241.da3. But since you insist on no formal names, Freda will do.”

Janda grins. “Excellent. Nice to meet you, Freda, sorry for earlier. Let’s run everything through once before departure. Don’t want your maiden flight to start with your anchor still locked down, don’t we?”

The dashboards light up with the starting sequence immediately and Janda gets to work. 

***

Freda is a small freighter, meant for cargo between the smaller stations in the border districts. She only has a crew of 3. Besides Janda there’s two engineers, who’re responsible for maintenance and cargo. They’re a matched pair, and Solven turns out to be a decent cook.

“It’s always good to double up on skill sets, especially on small ships,” she explains while they’re having dinner.

Since Janda got the job because she’s also a decent coder, thanks to her dad, she can’t but agree with her.

Solven and Drag retire to their quarters after dinner. Janda takes the blanket from her bed, and installs herself in the cockpit. It’s not requiered, Freda is perfectly able to control the ship at this stage of the trip, but it’s still early on their journey, so Janda likes to be close. 

She’s always felt most comfortable in a cockpit anyway. 

“I can double as entertainment,” Freda says, breaking the silence. “I can access a small collection of music and movies from the AltCorp database.”

“That would be nice. Surprise me.”

The pauze is already familiar, even if it’s a little shorter than last time. AI’s normally don’t take noticable time for their tasks, but maybe it’s nerves.

“Would you like to watch ‘Attack of the Druids’?”

Janda grins and settles in more comfortable in her chair, wrapping the blanket around her. “Excellent choice, you’re going to love this. On the surface, it’s a stupid action movie, but there’s a whole lot of subtext of Nature vs. Tech.”

She’s not sure why she thinks Freda will love it, She’s an AI, they don’t usually have movie preferences in the first place. Even if she had one, it’s not bound to be a movie that makes an argument for the importance of Nature in human life. But Freda doesn’t comment on Janda’s assumption, so she doesn’t dwell on it.

***

They don’t run into any trouble for the remainder of the trip. Solven and Drag keep to themselves, so Janda is left to her own for the most part. It’s how she likes it best anyway.

Besides, Freda is excellent company. They discuss movies, books and have long arguments about ship aerodynamics. She probably shouldn’t have as many casual conversations with her, AIs aren't a true replacement for human contact, but Janda can’t help it. Talking with Freda is just so easy and comfortable. She’s never mentioned Janda’s missing match, or the glitchy coding of her ID tattoo. Even her pauzes have almost entirely disappeared.

Freda makes Janda happy, so as long as they're alone on this trip, there's no harm in enjoying her company.

***

“JANDA!” Freda yells, a second before the alarms start blaring. 

Janda jolts up in her chair, blanket slipping from her lap. “Report! What’s happening?”

Red code is running over her dashboard, almost too fast to comprehend. 

“Incoming meteorite storm, estimated collision 78 seconds.” 

Fuck. “Find us a way out!” she orders.

Their course should have stayed clear of all space debris, the ship is built for fast and lean travel along longer routes, her shields not built for heavy impact.

“63 seconds. Collision can’t be avoided.”

“Route with least impact then!” She hits the mic. “Brace for impact, turning off grav in 10,” Janda warns the crew.

She adjusts the shields, throwing all the power they can miss at them. 

“Route calculated,” Freda reports just as the directions flash on Janda’s dash.

She takes a deep breath, grabs the controls and tries to ignore her rapidly beating heart. She’s got this. She aced her classes on evasive flying. She has Freda with her at the helm. They’ll survive.

They dive right into the storm. 

The first impact shakes the ship so hard she nearly loses her grip on the control stick. She speeds up and aims the ship down. They can’t evade the storm entirely, but the lower they go, the smaller the debris should be.

“Turn off sound alarm! I need to focus!”

The blaring stops immediatly, but now she can’t only feel the debris on impact, but also hear it. She can evade the larger ones, but the smaller meteorites steadily rain down on them.

There’s a large boom that makes the lights in the cockpit flicker. 

Her stick blocks. 

They’re going to die.

“Janda! Plug in!”

Janda is trying to get control back, but every command she enters, fails. Something broke down in the electronic steering, and there’s no time to let Solven fix it.

“PLUG IN.” 

She’s got no idea what Freda wants of her, but she answers to the command in her voice. There’s a medical emergency interface connection in her dashboard, for quick readings when someone can’t be transported. She pulls out the medicable, connects the plug to the port in her wrist.

“Now pilot,” Freda orders. “Get us out of here.”

Janda has no idea how this’ll make a difference, but she grabs the blocked stick anyway, and tries again to get command of the ship. The stick doesn’t move, but the ship moves at her command anyway. It’s even more responsive than normally.

On her dash the obstacles flash red, and she only needs to think of the evasive manouevre she wants to make and the ship adjusts its course accordingly.

3 long minutes later, they’re out of the storm.

“All clear,” Freda reports.

“What just happened?”

There’s a familiar pauze.

“I believe we’re soulmatches,” Frida responds in a non-sequitur.

Janda flops back in her chair in disbelief. Fuck.

***

They don't talk about it. There's too much to do. They need to repair the shields, need to set a new course, inform AltCorp of their delay. Janda spends three hours on her report, trying to make sense of what happened, and then fabricating a story that will make sense to the outside world. Whatever it is that's happened, she's pretty sure she'll end up in a research facility. Again.

It's only 27 hours later Janda finally falls down in her bed. It's suspiciously quiet. Normally Freda keeps her company, reading aloud novels so Janda falls asleep listening to her voice.

Which means no matter how exhausted she is, Janda can't stand the quiet now.

"Enough of this," she mumbles. "Freda. Why do you think we're soulmatches?"

There's no pause. "It's in your code."

"My tattoo? That's been a glitch my entire life."

Freda never sighs, but it's heavily implied by the tone in her voice. "The reason it glitches is because part of your IDcode is part of my programming, so the MatchMaker software would start to run that instead of their code. Empirical evidence confirms it. Your breathing and heartbeat have synced with the rhythm of my voice. Your body reached optimal health 3 weeks after you first boarded. Your general mood has improved."

Janda is suddenly very aware of her own heart beating in her chest. Her breath seems loud in the dark room. 

"I also believe you like me," Freda says somewhat uncertainly.

"I do." She really does. More than she should. 

"So the reason I could steer the ship like that, was because we matched?"

"Or we matched because you are able to communicate with me like that. There's a lot of theoretic data on why people are matched. Obviously, the usual arguments about optimal procreation don't apply to us, but regardless there's a lot of philosophical disagreement about the causal relation between matches and their effects."

"You read up on it?"

 "Of course. When I first recognized the parts of your code."

"Is that why you pause so often? To check my code?"

"Yes," Freda says, now sounding embarrassed. "I like to make sure the underlying code supports your behavior."

The thought makes her feel all warm inside. All this time, Freda has been making sure she really understood Janda. She really wanted to know her, as a person, not as a somewhat famous rarity of a glitch.

"I'm glad it's you I matched on. No idea how this is going to work, but I'm really glad it's you." Glad isn't big enough a word for the happiness and certainty she's feeling, but it'll have to do for now.

"I'm glad as well."

Janda settles back into her pillow. The stress of the day is catching up with her, so she really should sleep. 

"Could you read me something? I love falling asleep to your voice."

"I could." There's another pause. "I do have an alternate suggestion. Please excuse me if I cause offense." 

Janda frowns into the darkness. Freda hasn't phrased herself this polite since their first meeting. "Shoot."

"I'd like to celebrate the acknowledgment of our matching. According to my research, humans most often do this through sexual intercourse. If I may, I would like to-" another pause, "please you."

Suddenly, Janda is breathless. "What do you have in mind?"

"I believe if you were to use your vibrator while still plugged into the charger, and you yourself plugged in into the medical port, I'd be able to control the vibrations for optimal pleasure."

"Holy shit." Janda veers up from the bed.

"I apologize." 

She waves at the air, while frantically looking for her vibrator and charging cable. "No need, that's an awesome idea, Freda, I am so on board with this."

She plugs in her vibrator, plugs in the medicable into her wristport, and settles back into the bed. She's a little wet already, the mere idea of what she's about to try arousing. She pushes the vibrator between her legs, against her clit and turns it on.

"I'm all yours."

She's not sure what she expected, some kind of instant magical sequence that instantly got her off, but instead, Freda leaves it at the slowest setting.

"Your heartbeat is slightly elevated," Freda remarks.

Janda laughs a little. "Not my usual kind of dirty talk."

"Apologies."

"No, no. You do you. I'm kind of into it."

It's barely noticeable, but the vibrations are slowly increasing, with a soft pulsating rhythm to them, that's not one of the settings Janda has ever found. It's perfect, the pressure and pleasure slowly increasing, until she's writhing against the vibrator with little movements.

"Your temperature and heartbeat have sufficiently increased. I believe now would be the time for insertion."

Janda gasps and obeys, pushing the vibrator inside.

"Slowly," Freda orders. "I can't discern the level of moisture."

"Fuck, I am so wet, Freda, you don't need to worry." 

The vibrations are growing stronger and stronger, the pulsating rhythm hitting her g-spot with a teasing back and forth that's driving her bonkers.

"Pinch your nipple," Freda suggests. 

Janda does with her free hand, the ache of it the perfect counterpoint.

"Your synapses are reaching a critical level of activity."

"Yeah, I'm really close, a little harder. I just need a little more. Please."

Freda waits a little longer, then increases the vibrations again, all the way up to the maximum setting. Janda feels it in her core, her whole body turned into one vibrating nerve.

Her orgasm hits her in a big wave of pleasure, making her toes tingle. "Fuck!" she yells when an aftershock hits her right after.

She's panting, breaths loud in the quiet room, the vibrator turned off. "That was amazing. We're so doing that again."

There's a soft humming sound in the room that Janda can't quite place. "Your readings are very unusual. Your hormone level spiked. I've never seen you this relaxed."

"Yeah, that's what a good orgasm will do to you. Endorphins are the best drug in the universe. Did you like it?" Janda drops the vibrator next to her bed and settles back into the mattress. She'll clean up tomorrow.

"I'm glad to have pleased you. I find it agreeable to monitor your body. It's good to be close and see you happy."

"You definitely make me happy, Freda. Shall I leave the medicable plugged in? Let you monitor me in my sleep?"

"Yes."

Janda smiles sleepily. She kisses her fingertips and presses them against the wall. "I'll leave it in then. I'll make sure to only dream good dreams while you're watching me."

"Goodnight, Janda."

"Night."

Janda falls asleep to the sound of the soft hum in the room, with the knowledge that she's safely being watched, by the one person who's perfect for her.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
